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the abbreviations stood for. He had a couple of them, too. Master of Surgery, MB ChB (Hons), MSc (Hons). “Sounds impressive, Miss Hunter. Your mother must be proud.”
    “Too proud. But remember, no more talk of Rita Robinson.”
    He grinned. “How could I have forgotten so soon? What instrument did you major in?” He bit his lip. He had to be careful what questions he asked.
    “Piano. Mother was ecstatic that all those piano lessons in Glasgow weren’t for naught.”
    “I’ll bet she was.” He emptied his cup and set it on the carpet beside him. “What did you do after you got those degrees?”
    “Three years of Post Graduate Degrees—one for my Graduate Diploma in Music, and another two on my Master of Music Studies. Both in Opera Performance.”
    “That’s a lot of studying. Didn’t you get tired of it?”
    “I love what I do, but yes, I was tired when I finally graduated. Eight years of non-stop studying is long. Probably the reason I took the next year off, doing the things those years of study had kept me from. I spent autumn and winter on my mother’s couch reading paperback novels and watching movies, a bowl of buttered popcorn always by my side. Summer and spring saw me on Bondi beach with my nose buried in yet more novels.”
    “I’ll bet your mother wasn’t pleased.”
    “No, she wasn’t.” Skye placed a finger on Callum’s lips. “Enough. No more talk of her.”
    He kissed her finger. “Agreed. So, was dating one of the things your studies kept you from?”
    “Not really. I dated a little through the years.”
    “Meet anyone special?”
    She shook her head. “I always compared them to you. No one ever measured up.”
    His eyes searched hers. “How’s that possible? We were just kids.” But Callum knew how. Nobody had ever measured up to Skye either. Even Katie had failed to fill the space in his heart that had always belonged to this girl…now a woman.
    She cupped his cheek. “No, we weren’t just kids. We were teens on the brink of adulthood—at least you were—and we were in love. We had plans for a future together.”
    Callum wanted to wrap Skye in his arms and kiss her as they had earlier in the car…and tell her that maybe, just maybe, life had thrown them a second chance. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want to scare Skye with too much, too soon. She had her career. A relationship with him could impact that. Was it possible they could be together and still have their individual careers? There would be a lot to figure out if they got back together again.
    Skye waved her hand in front of Callum’s face. “Hey there…” She leaned toward him. “Tell me what life without me has been like.”
    “One word. Hell.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    A smile brushed her lips as light and brief as her fingers did his hair. “So what did Callum McGuire do in hell for sixteen years?”
    Just where he didn’t want this conversation to go. Much as he was reluctant to leave, it was time to head home. He glanced at his wristwatch. Almost midnight. “I’d better go. You need to sleep. Tomorrow night we’ll be up late again.”
    Skye pouted. “You’ll let me tell you all about my life, and I don’t get even the slightest inkling of what you’ve been up to all this time. Not fair, Callum McGuire.”
    He kissed her cheek. “Another time. I promise. Besides,” he grinned as he pushed himself up off the floor, “you haven’t told me everything yet. There are some gaps you need to fill.”
    Towering over Skye, he held out his hand and pulled her up. She overbalanced and fell into his arms. His breath caught for a moment before he breathed deep of her scent. Hints of vanilla, May rose, and jasmine. He knew this high street perfume, and it was as classy and timeless as Skye. Callum took another deep breath as his hands traveled up her back until they disappeared into her hair. It was softer than he remembered. Redder. Longer. Sweeping his fingers through the silky